She's Broken
by Phantoms Little Lotte
Summary: Roger finds that he can finally relate to someone. The abused cousin of Mark Cohen.
1. Discovered

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a while now...it was probably my first RENT idea and I started writing it, but I was never satisfied with it. So I'm going to try again. Wish me luck!

Disclaimer: Don't own Mark or Roger. I own Kate, however. I do not own her name; I used my best friend's name with her permission lol. Anything non-RENT is mine, though.

* * *

Waking up should've been Roger's favorite part of the day. Being HIV, he never knew, even as healthy as he was, if he'd wake up the next morning.

But it definitely wasn't his favorite part of the day. Roger was a man who did not, nor ever did take sleep for granted. Yet after a night of tossing and turning, he finally decided to wake up surprisingly early that morning.

He slowly pushed himself out of his 'bed', which was really a mattress with a few sheets and a pillow. The wooden floor beneath him was cold and he immediately wished he had a pair of socks that weren't completely destroyed from overuse. Making his way to the 'kitchen portion' of the loft he shared with his roommate, Mark, he noticed something fairly odd.

And she was lying on their couch.

---

Mark was never a late sleeper. He always figured it was because he realized the earlier he woke up, the more moments he could capture on his beloved camera.

So when he did wake up that morning and saw Roger, sitting next to the couch, staring at something, he was instantly shocked...and a little confused.

"Roger, why are you awake this early?" He asked, looking at the clock that read 9:06 AM. Of course, he was never sure if that was the right time. Mostly, Roger and Mark just assumed.

"Couldn't sleep." He answered, never taking his eyes off the couch. "Who's this?" Roger pointed to the scrawny woman asleep on the couch.

Mark's confused only grew. _Who?_

Inching closer, he reached forward and pushed the girl's long auburn hair out of her face.

"Oh my God..." he whispered. "Kate?"

Mark gently shook her until she stirred, looking up groggily at the two men. She gave a weak smile. "Hey Marky."

Roger smirked. "Marky..."

Mark ignored his roommate and focused on the young woman. "What are you doing here?"

"You said if I ever needed help, if things got too harsh, to take the spare key and come find you. After last night, I decided to take your advice."

Mark paused, almost afraid to ask the question on his mind. "Uncle Richard, again?"

Roger froze. _Uncle?_

The woman nodded. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm not even sure what I did to make him so angry. But for some reason, I deserved to be punished. And I was. When I came to and remembered what happened, I decided I couldn't do this anymore. So I came here."

Roger was stunned. Was this woman Mark's cousin? And how could Mark not tell him about this?

Why didn't Mark do anything?

"You can stay here for however long you need. Is that okay with you, Rog?"

Roger just nodded. _I deserved to be punished._

No one deserved that. Especially not a woman.

Roger, of all people, knew that no one deserved to be abused.

He knew.


	2. I Don't Have a Father

A/N: Hey! Okay, question someone asked. I'm not sure if there will be any pairings. I'm about 75 sure there will be. It might just be friendship though. (Although, I have a really good pairing idea) Another question if anyone is curious. I've decided that this takes place post-April. Just clearing things up.

A/N2: I'd actually like it if people told me if they wanted a pairing. Kind of like a vote or something. Just want to see what people prefer :-)

Disclaimer: Don't own if it's from RENT.

* * *

_Roger inhaled sharply as he hit the ground. He thought to turn around, to look at the man who was doing this to him, but thought better of it. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on the wooden floorboards. _

_"So..." Roger cringed at the voice behind him. "What did you do?"_

_The young blonde man bit his lip. 'Don't give in...don't give in...'_

_The man grabbed Roger's head of blonde hair and pulled him up so his ear was next to his mouth. "What did you do?" The man repeated, more harshly. _

_"I stole your pack of cigarettes." Roger answered through clenched teeth._

_The man lifted his leg and pushed Roger to the floor with his foot. The young man collapsed under the pressure._

_"Say it again."_

_"I stole your pack of cigarettes." The older man (the man that Roger refused to acknowledge by any other name than 'him' or 'you') kicked him in the ribs, feeling satisfaction as he heard his son grunt in pain._

_"And you are...?"_

_"Sorry..." Roger whispered, barely audible. It was a lie. He never regretted anything wrong he did to his father. Not even during a beating._

_With a kick, the man spoke again. "I can't hear you..."_

_"SORRY, I'M SORRY!" Roger screamed. The man gave one final kick to Roger's chest before leaving the room, Roger sprawled on the floor, coughing gravely. _

_"You bet you are..."_

---

"Hey! Mark's roommate! I'm talking to you!"

Roger broke from his reverie and looked up at Mark's cousin. "What do you want, Kathy?" He asked, slightly irritated.

"_Kate_...my name is Kate." She answered, her voice taking on a tone. "I asked where Mark was but you were just gazing off into the distance."

"Probably off filming or something." He got off the kitchen stool to go into his room, but he heard the young woman's voice again.

"Does he do that a lot? Film?"

Roger turned around and stared at her in disbelief. "You don't know your cousin very well, do you?"

Kate became confused. "What?"

"Mark practically lives behind that camera lens. I've had to threaten to break it a few times just to make him leave me alone."

Kate laughed. She was pretty...Roger supposed. She looked too battered. Her clothes hung off her, indicating to Roger that she was obviously malnourished. She had scars here and there. He could tell she had attempted to hide everything with makeup, but tears had smudged it all. Her hair was a frizzy, auburn mess. Her eyes were a coffee color and were surprisingly bright.

They made her almost look hopeful.

He shook his head and looked away. He turned around to leave for his room again when the same voice perked up.

"What did your father do to you?"

He froze.

"What?" He asked, his voice slightly squeaking.

"Your father. I saw it in your eyes when I told my story."

"Saw what?" Roger replied, almost a bit too harshly.

Yet Kate just stared back, curious. "You know...understanding. Sympathy. Fear."

"What do you know?" He fought back.

"I can pick up on these things. So what did your father do to you?"

Roger turned away, walking quickly to his bedroom. "Nothing." He called back. "I don't even have a father." With that, he slammed his bedroom door.


	3. Like a Book

A/N: I have to say that I'm happy with the reviews that I get for this story. I don't get a lot, but what you guys have to say honestly keeps me going. So thanks a bunch for that! This is basically a back story to Kate and Roger, didn't know I was going to do that until after I started writing. Enjoy!

A/N2: Just thought I'd mention because I'm incredibly excited about it, Anthony Rapp's book comes out Tuesday. I've read reviews from people who own it already (they pre-ordered it or something) and they say that it's fantastic. (Plus Anthony mentions Adam a lot which will make me very happy...)

A/N3: You guys are fun to talk to lol. Anywho, my choir class is singing a RENT medley, including RENT, Seasons of Love, Without You, Will I and Finale B. Just thought I'd mention it because that's something else that I'm incredibly excited about.

Disclaimer: Ah...something I'm not excited about. Don't own. I own Kate. That's it. How sad it that?

* * *

Kate watched as the blonde man left the room, a look of anger on his face. She understood why he'd be so angry, so fearful about the situation. Maybe no one had ever picked up on his past before.

For Kate, maybe it was so easy to talk about it because she'd never known anything else. It was the norm for her. Everyday, when she'd come home from school or work or wherever she decided to go, her father would insist she'd done something wrong or if she'd done a chore, he'd insist she never did it well enough. So he'd beat her.

And she did what she could to ignore it. She'd think about something funny that someone said that day or she'd concentrate on school or she'd play with her hair. It sounds hard that she'd ignore being beaten...but it's what she did. It was her defense mechanism against the pain her father inflicted upon her.

Growing up, Kate never made a lot of friends. Her father (when he cared enough) never bought her top notch clothes or school supplies. But for some reason, it never bothered her. As a child, she loved her father. He tried his best for her. It didn't matter if she'd come home and hug him, and he'd push her away.

_Daddy's just shy._ She thought. _He'll love me soon._

Yet, when she went to elementary school and heard the other kids talking about where their daddy's took them that weekend or what they bought the child or anything along those lines, Kate found herself feeling jealous. She never had a story to brag about.

Even when they spoke about their mothers, jealousy sprung up. Her mother died in childbirth. The older she got, the more certain Kate was that that was the reason why her father was so harsh and strict.

Another fact: The older she got, the more resentful Kate was of her father. At their quiet dinners, Kate felt the urge to scream out, "Look at me! I'm your daughter! Why won't you love me!"

Yet another fact: The older she got, the more her father would say, "You look so much like your mother..." before beating her.

She always assumed that was another reason for beating her. Taking out his pain on her. She figured that since her mother died and left her father with a child, he was devastated and angry at her.

Whatever the reason was, Kate was finally old enough to realize there was no excuse for what the man did. Hence the reason why, after one far too harsh beating, she left Queens for good to live with her cousin in the East Village.

Although, when Mark found out and mailed her the spare key, he never informed her that he had a roommate.

---

"What the fuck does she know..." Roger muttered to himself, slamming his door. Looking to his feet, he kept talking. "My father did nothing but love me." His voice cracked on the word 'love'.

_Lying is easier when it's not about something so tragic._

As far as Roger was concerned, he never did anything to make his father the way he was. Angry. Bitter.

_A bastard._

Roger shook the thought from his head. He was never a religious man, but the thought of going to hell did haunt him. And for some reason, he remembered the sin, "Thou shalt honour thy father and mother."

_But what if they don't honor you?_

Little things would set his father off. Dinner was burnt that night. They ran out of beer. Cigarettes missing.

One time Roger even remembered his father beating him because his favorite TV show was interrupted by a commercial. So when big things came along (His father finding out he smoked, seeing a report card of Rogers, finding Roger making out with his girlfriend), the beating was ten times more intense.

Roger constantly wondered why his mother did nothing but stand aside and watch it happen. She was aware of it. It wasn't hard to notice something like that in their small house. Either she was too afraid to do anything or just...didn't care.

It didn't matter. She could've done something. And when she didn't, Roger felt that he hated her just as much as his father.

When he met Mark after he moved to New York, he was a little distant. Mark was someone who actually cared about him. April was easier. She loved him in a different way.

But Mark cared for him and looked after him, always making sure he was safe. Maybe that's why Roger stuck with it.

_He's the parent I never had._

As awkward as it was having a 'parent' for the first time in 20 years, he enjoyed it. When Roger was sick, Mark made him soup. When Roger was angry, Mark let him vent. When Roger was sad, Mark talked to him about it. Occasionally, he even comforted him when he cried.

But something that Mark didn't have that every parent should was intuition. Roger had to be clearly upset for Mark to pick up on it.

That's what scared Roger the most about this girl.

_What's different with this girl?_

_How can she read my like a book?

* * *

_

A/N: Okay…scary. I wrote everything but 5 sentences in this chapter, saved it, came back and thought it was deleted. This was actually pretty long...amazing. Wasn't really fond of the ending, but I liked the chapter nonetheless. So...what about you guys? Like? Dislike?


	4. Cap'n Crunch Fight

A/N: Once again, mucho thanks for the reviews! I opened my email and saw that I had like...7, all for chapter 3. I was ecstatic. So thank you so much!

A/N2: This chapter is making up for all the drama and sadness. So expect much needed immaturity.

A/N3: Go on and you can read the first few pages of Anthony's book. Warning though; they cut you off in the middle of the first chapter and I was basically screaming profanities at the computer because I wanted to read more.

Disclaimer:sighs: Don't own, don't sue...

* * *

Roger woke up the next morning, full of regret and embarrassment. He barely knew the young woman that had come to live with him, yet he treated her as poorly and as offensively as he could. He wasn't even sure why. After April...

_Say it, Roger. Died. April's dead. _

After April...well, ever since the incident, Roger felt as if the whole world had a grudge against him. Mostly God. It's not everyday that a young man comes home from band practice and sees his young, beautiful girlfriend dead on the floor with a note next to her crimson slit wrists that read, "We have AIDS."

_Had, April. You had it. I still do._

He needed someone to blame. So he blamed everyone. It was easier for him to put up a wall and block everyone out as opposed to feeling their pity and their sympathy.

Roger Davis was a strong man, despite his disease. He didn't need, nor did he want pity.

Walking into the main room of their cold, virtually empty loft, he saw Kate sleeping soundly on the couch. She had a blanket and Roger was certain where it came from. Mark had given it to her. His one blanket that covered his lumpy mattress, and he gave it to his cousin.

The thought made Roger sick. This is what poor is. Sleeping at night with no warmth and waking up with no food in the refrigerator.

Walking to the kitchen area, he glanced out the window and saw a homeless woman half-sleeping on the curb, half-guarding all her possessions.

_No. That's what poor is._

He opened the cabinet door slowly, as it squeaked the entire way open. He didn't want to wake the girl. He didn't particularly _like _her, but he still knew better than to wake someone when they're sleeping. Once again-sleep-something Roger never took for granted.

Grabbing two slightly chipped, yet completely usable bowls, he placed them down on the counter/table and grabbed some milk (which shocked him, considering he wasn't even aware they had milk) along with cereal.

He fixed breakfast and walked up slowly to the sleeping woman. She had washed her face since the previous night. Roger could tell because there was no trace of makeup left. Yet she still looked...

_Pitiful._

He placed the bowl down on the floor and started to walk away when he heard a voice.

"You made me breakfast?"

Roger turned around and saw Kate eying him suspiciously.

"Yeah, well...I felt bad about yesterday. My attitude was...less than dignified."

"You're telling me." Kate answered. Looking up at her, Roger saw she had a smile on her face.

"It's weird...you and Mark are so different. How are you two related?"

"Cousins. Thought that was obvious."

"It was a rhetorical question."

Kate took a bite of cereal, her eyes lighting up.

_Probably hasn't eaten in a while._

"Well, I could say the same about you two. How did you end up rooming together?"

"We met in high school. We weren't always the best of friends...just kind of acquaintances. But when school ended and we had no desire to go to college, we left for the East Village and found this shitty place. We lived out the dream. Just doing what we love. But those dreams are always a little fucked up. We never realized that we needed a steady source of income. So, we found two other roommates to help with the rent, one being a professor who could help out in that situation. I took up gigs with a band and got money that way.

"Anyway, the longer we lived here, the more we got to know each other. We may seem different, but we both have one similar quality about us. We both want to create and touch people with our talent."

Roger realized as he stopped talking that for some reason, this girl was really easy to talk to. Almost like he'd known her forever and they were just catching up. He pulled over a wooden chair and sat across from her.

"Hmm...so you're in a band?"

Roger shook his head. "Not anymore. I haven't played since..."

Silence.

Kate spoke up. "Since what?"

"Nothing. Just since the band split up."

_Lying...again._

"What did you play?"

"Guitar...and I sang lead vocals too."

Kate quickly put down her bowl and sat up. "Ooh! Sing me something!"

Roger froze.

_What?_

"No...no, I couldn't."

"No, please! I love music. Please, you can't suck that much!"

"No, really, I can't..."

"Sing or I'll pour it on you." Roger first looked at her devious face, then to her finger pointing at the cereal bowl sitting on the floor.

"You wouldn't dare..."

She picked it up and smiled. "Wouldn't I? We've only known each other for one day, you have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Do it and I'll scream."

"Okay, works for me."

Both did as they said. Kate poured the lukewarm milk on Roger's pants; Roger screamed. And loudly.

"That's it..." He said, laughing.

_When was the last time I actually laughed?_

He grabbed his bowl, slightly sad that he was giving up his meal, and poured it on her, also drenching the couch.

"ROGER! KATE! What the fuck is going on here!" Roger and Kate looked to the door leading to Mark's room, seeing a very angry and confused Mark standing in the doorway.

"Roger started it." Kate answered.

"What! Don't pin this on me, you started it first!"

"You wouldn't sing!"

"I didn't have to! Just like you didn't have to pour cereal on me!"

"ENOUGH!" Mark shouted. "Just...clean up the mess...please..." He put a hand on his forehead, grabbed his camera and made his way out of the loft. "Fantastic..." He whispered to himself. "Now I have to live with _two _children. As if Roger wasn't bad enough..."


	5. For the Best

A/N: Just a brief warning about this chapter. I might have gone a little overboard with the 'F' word...just felt it was necessary. Also, it's very dramatic. But I feel anyone would react the same way to finding out what Kate's about to find out.

Disclaimer: Don't own RENT. Also don't own the quote about life being beauty and pain...that belongs to Jon Foreman from Switchfoot.

* * *

Mark didn't like what he saw. Kate, he knew, didn't have a lot of luck with relationships. She'd had a boyfriend in the past, but he eventually left her, claiming that she was too needy and emotional. Which was something Mark didn't actually see.

For someone who'd been beaten most of her life, she dealt with it pretty well.

Or she at least hid it pretty well.

But anyway, a relationship with Roger was the last thing on earth that Kate needed. Roger, whether she knew this or not, was dying. Roger's body was an AIDS infected, beautiful disaster.

And neither Mark nor Roger knew if even the AZT would save him.

Mark knew that he couldn't let Kate get attached. But seeing them laughing and having fun together, he also knew that that would be easier said than done.

Not to mention, it was the happiest he's seen Roger in...

_Since April._

Mark didn't know if he could just take that away from him. He deserved happiness.

But Kate also deserved to know the truth.

---

Kate lay on the couch, watching the blonde man quietly play his wooden acoustic guitar. She watched as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes and exhaling, satisfied for once with the sound he produced.

It had taken him a long time after April's death to even look in the direction of his guitar. It took him much longer to pick it up. But suddenly, it seemed worth it to make music again.

"You're good, you know." He heard a voice say. Turning his head, he saw Kate watching him, a smile playing on her lips. He smiled back.

"Thanks, but no."

"I mean it, you really are!" It would be a lie if Roger said he wasn't flattered. It had been a while since someone actually liked his music.

"You like music?"

"I do...but it's not as if I was exposed to a lot of it as a child. My dad wouldn't let me have a stereo or anything, so I was forced to make my own music. I sang with a few choirs in school. It kept me musically satisfied and it kept me away from my father longer."

Roger nodded, understanding that feeling entirely. The feeling of doing anything to stay away from home...if you could even call it home...as long as possible. That could've been the reason why Roger was such a trouble maker in high school. He did anything to get detention...and stay away from his father.

"You're girlfriend wouldn't like you staring at me like that." Kate told him softly.

"What girlfriend?"

Kate looked at him, confused. "Girlfriend? You must have a girlfriend..."

"No...not anymore, anyway."

"What, you break up with her?"

Roger shook his head. "She...kind of broke up with me...in a sense."

Kate continued to stare at him, even more confused than before. "Well, she either broke up with you, or she didn't."

Roger sighed, getting up to leave. "We'll talk about this another time, okay?"

"No!" Kate shouted, getting up as well. "We always get to talking about you, and then you hide yourself. You bottle up everything. Just fucking talk to me, okay?"

"She's dead, okay!" Roger shouted back. Kate took a step back, not expecting any of it.

"...She's...she's what?"

"Dead. Is that what you wanted to hear? She fucking killed herself in my bathroom. Slit her wrists." Kate's heart sank as she saw Roger begin to cry. "I did nothing but love her and she killed herself." Roger slid to the floor, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"God...I've never said that out loud. Fucking hurts..."

Kate bent down next to him and brushed the blonde hair out of his face. With the back her hand, she gently wiped away his tears. "That's life, Roger...life is beauty and it's pain. For a lot of us, life is mostly pain...but it's the beauty that makes everything worth it."

Roger let out a small laugh. "You get that from a Hallmark card?"

"Shut up." Kate laughed, smacking him.

Roger looked up at her and before he knew what he was doing, placed a small kiss on her lips. Kate was too stunned to even move, but found herself eventually leaning in, kissing him back.

---

After working up his courage, Mark finally exited his bedroom to talk to Kate. It would be hard, but she had to know about Roger's condition. Before it was too late.

But looking at his cousin on the floor, kissing the diseased man, he saw it was already too late.

For some reason, Mark felt...angry. At himself, at his cousin for kissing Roger, at April for making Roger the way he was. So he did was most angry people do.

He yelled.

"Kate, what the fuck!"

Kate jumped off of Roger and turned around, seeing her cousin. She'd never seen Mark so angry...and thinking on it, she wasn't sure if she'd _ever _seen him angry.

"Mark...it was just a kiss..."

"Kate, you know nothing about Roger. You just met the guy. You can't get attached to him like this."

Kate was appalled. "Who are you to tell me who I can and can't get attached to?"

"Roger," Mark ignored her. "Does she know?"

Roger froze. "About...about what?"

"Don't play dumb, Roger, does she know?"

"...about April? Yeah, she knows..."

"And the AIDS? She know about that too?"

The room went silent. Mark was glaring accusingly at Roger, Roger was staring at Mark, jaw wide open, and Kate was staring at Roger...completely stunned.

"...AIDS. You...you have AIDS."

"Kate, I was going to tell you..."

"When!" Kate shouted. She felt herself get choked up. "You kiss me...and then I find out you're probably going to die?"

Roger flinched. It was the first time anyone had ever said the words to him so harshly.

_You're probably going to die._

"I...I have to go..." Kate answered, not looking at either of the two men. "I'm going to take a walk...I just need to think for a while." She quickly grabbed her coat and ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Roger glared at Mark angrily. "Nice going, Mark. I finally get something good back in my life, and you go and take it away."

"She was going to find out sooner or later, Roger. I had to do it before you two got too attached. I saw it coming."

Roger began walking away to his room. "Oh, just fuck off already. Just because Maureen dumped you doesn't mean you have the right to make everyone else miserable!" Another door slammed.

Mark stood in the center of the living room, completely disgusted with himself and with the events that just occurred. "That was definitely not how I planned things out."

* * *

A/N: I know, a lot of you probably hate me for how I'm making Mark sound, but I'll make up for it eventually. Promise! 


	6. Slip Away

A/N: Aww...only 2 reviews for that last chapter? Took a lot of guts to post it...anywho, this is a shorter chapter, but necessary nonetheless. Just as a heads up, I'm not sure when this story will end or how it will end just yet. For the latter, I have a general idea that I'm toying with, but I'm not sure if I'll go through with it. So this could end in two chapters, or it could end in five. It's not going to be really long, but I'm just not sure how much longer it actually will be.

Disclaimer: Oye. Okay, don't own. I own my story line, Kate, her family (except Mark, of course)...and that's about it. Wish I owned Roger. No such luck.

* * *

Kate walked down the street hurriedly, unaware of where she was going or even if she'd be able to find her way home. But she needed to escape. This was all too surreal for her.

It was hard for her to trust men. Really hard. But for some reason, she connected to Roger faster than she had ever imagined she would have.

_And now he's dying. _

_With AIDS._

_And he didn't find it necessary to tell you before kissing you._

Walking under the ironically cold city lights, she felt even colder tears run down her cheeks before hitting the concrete streets.

_Never trust. You always get hurt._

---

Mark found himself torn. He would either run to Roger and talk to him, or run out into the street and find Kate and talk to her.

He had no idea where Kate was. She could be anywhere. New York wasn't exactly a small place.

With Roger on the other hand, Mark was almost certain the man would punch him.

But at least he knew where Roger was.

He slowly made his way to Roger's room, quietly opening the door and peeking inside. Roger was lying on the bed (mattress, really) staring at the ceiling, one hand draping over the side, the other hand placed on his heart.

Mark paused. He realized that he could run. Roger didn't notice him. He didn't have to stay.

But his feet wouldn't move. His guilt was too heavy.

He took a deep breath. "Listen, Roger...I just want to apologize."

"No." Roger answered.

Mark stared at him, confused. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean you don't need to. I've had some time to think about it and I realized that I had no right to yell at you. It's not your fault that I was a jackass and didn't tell her when I should've."

Mark was astounded. Roger was actually being sincere and mature for once.

He thought seriously before asking the next question. "...Do you love her?"

Roger laughed. "Mark, I've known the girl for a few days! But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to her. It's nice to have someone to talk to...who relates to me in that way. Talking about my past isn't easy and it never will be, but somehow it's easier with her."

Mark nodded, slightly hurt. He always assumed that Roger knew he could come to him with his problems. Maybe Roger did know. But it hurt even more that Roger wasn't comfortable with that idea.

Roger looked up at Mark, a look of concern on his face. "Where is she?"

Mark shook his head. "I don't know...this is big, Roger. It's not just something you two can forget. As hard as this is to accept, AIDS is a part of who you are. And this is going to hurt, but I'm not sure if Kate's up to the idea of taking care of you for the rest of your life."

Roger nodded, knowing that everything Mark had to say was true. And it did hurt. For once, Roger wanted a girlfriend that didn't run when trouble came their way. That was a pattern that he fell into far too many times.

The pattern was getting old.

Getting off the old spring mattress, he grabbed his leather jacket, and for the first time in ages, he opened the loft door and ran out.

It was about time that something good happened in Roger's life.

And he wasn't about to let it slip away.


	7. Mistakes

A/N: I hope I don't offend anyone that lives in NY with the first few sentences. Believe me. I used to live there and I know that there are rude people that do live there. But I'm definitely not saying everyone there is rude. Just wanted to note that.

* * *

For once in her life, Kate was right about something.

And for once, she wished she hadn't been right.

Because she knew she'd get lost. Looking around, she didn't recognize anything she saw. Not really. Everything in New York sort of looked the same. Big buildings and small sidewalks that were overcrowded with a large amount of rude people.

She had no choice but to keep walking. If she stopped to examine the scenery around her, she would certainly be pushed out of the way.

So she continued to walk, looking around quickly as she did in hopes of seeing something, at least one thing that was familiar.

The sidewalk beneath her felt unstable. Everything was overwhelming in the city. It almost made her dizzy; the lights and the cars and the people...she wasn't used to taking in so much scenery all at once.

So caught up in everything surrounding her, she didn't notice the hand that reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She began to scream, but only received a few unsympathetic glares from the New Yorkers walking past.

"Hey, shh..." Looking up at the familiar voice, she saw Roger smiling sadly at her.

Kate looked around, slightly embarrassed. More people than before were staring at her, slightly agitated. She looked to the ground and quietly muttered, "What do you want?"

"I want to take you back home. And I want to apologize."

"I can take care of myself, you know." She turned on her heel to walk in the opposite direction, but looking around, that same thought clouded her mind.

She had no idea where she was.

"You're lost." Roger called after her, as if reading her thoughts. "Let me at least take you back to the loft."

Having no other choice, she turned around and walked beside him.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, not looking at her.

"I know you are. And you should be."

"I hurt you." It wasn't a question as much as a statement.

"Yes, you did." Stopping, she turned to face him. "What were you thinking? It's hard enough for me to get close to someone and then you pull this?"

"I said I was sorry. Okay? What more can I say, I fucked up!" Roger answered, his voice beginning to rise.

"Yes, you did! I thought maybe you were someone I could get close to, someone I could depend on, and you're dying! What the hell is that?"

"Not everything is about you, Kate."

She froze. "What?"

"Not everything is about you. Think about me. You said it! I'm dying! It would be nice to have just one relationship that doesn't die after I say those two words. I'm dying...

"So I figured, maybe if I don't say anything for a while, you wouldn't run. You'd stay by me. But according to you, I guess I screwed up. Again."

Kate couldn't look at him. She'd never thought of it in that perspective before. Never.

But could she trust him? If he kept something as important as death from her, she wasn't so sure.

They walked the rest of the way home in complete silence, occasionally glancing at each other. Roger, Kate noticed, looked pissed, aggravated, frustrated, and a little scared. Kate, Roger noticed, looked guilty.

Upon reaching the loft, Roger paused before unlocking the door.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked. Once again, it sounded more like a statement than an actual question. No emotion lingered in his voice. He ran out of strength from arguing before.

Kate stared at him, her throat beginning to close. "I don't know if I can. Roger, you lied to me. About something huge."

"And I said I was sorry. Shit, Kate! There's nothing more I can do! I screwed up, I realize that now. But if it's any consolation, it was so that I wouldn't lose you. Please...forgive me."

Kate nodded, tears falling from her face. She was tired of hurt, of pain, of people getting close to her and then leaving her just as fast.

"Do I have to decide right now?"

"No...you can think about it."

She nodded again, watching as he unlocked the door. She knew that if the decision had to be made at that moment, after all that had happened and all she'd gone through, she wouldn't have forgiven him.

She brushed her auburn hair out of her face, sniffling quietly before entering the loft, Roger following close behind.

Whether Mark was happy to see her or not, Kate didn't know. She quickly ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and grabbing the towel next to her to wipe away her tears.

As angry as she was at Roger and as upset she was-

-She wasn't prepared to lose him.

* * *

A/N: I finished Anthony's book, which is amazing by the way. Someone asked me a while ago for the name, it's Without You: Memoirs of Love, Loss, and the Musical RENT. Or at least something along those lines. I really recommend reading it, it's just...wow, amazing. I became a very large Anthony Rapp fan by the time I finished it (Hell, I became a fan probably 3 chapters in!) As you know, I'm more of an Adam Pascal fan, but now Anthony is a close second. 


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